Dung By The River
by Lord Kristine
Summary: A story of life, death, and Stegoceratops poop.


According to Claire, the cottony heat of summer made her scales itch. Owen didn't really know how heat could be "cottony," but it was supposedly like pollen, or maybe dust, because it didn't feel like the thick heat from a stove or the wet heat from a kettle. This heat was dirty. This heat made her itch.

Every morning, Owen would feel her twitching to and fro, trying to reach a sensitive spot on her back with her thagomizer, or else force her plates to bend unnaturally and rub sensitive spots along her spine. When she needed her belly scratched, she would roll over and start prodding it with her horns, rather unsuccessfully, since her neck was so thick. More often than not, the itches appeared behind her frill, and no matter how much she bent her head backwards, her erratic movements would not get rid of them.

So, naturally, Owen was forced to scratch his poor, agonized wife during these spells. He sat up in bed with the same tired expression as a father who needed to tend to a crying baby, and he certainly had experience in _that_ situation, so he knew the feeling well. It was rather annoying to have to scratch Claire when she was above the age of dependence, but it would be foolish to complain, lest he accidentally trigger one of her downswings.

Claire had improved significantly in the realm of not being upset that she was a Stegoceratops, but that icky feeling never truly went away. Owen had finally come to terms with the fact that he could never "fix" her, that there would always be a shred of doubt in her mind. The best he could do was to try and make her feel comfortable in her unfortunate situation, and he had certainly done that as best he could for the past few years. Honestly, it was too much to expect that she'd recover from her depressive mental state entirely. It might very well be impossible for a person to forget that they were a Stegoceratops, especially since Claire was alone in her struggle.

Kind of.

There was Lily, of course, who happened to be part Stegoceratops, though Owen couldn't really say for certain what percentage of her belonged to that genome. Claire still retained some human features, after all, so she wasn't one hundred percent Stegoceratops. That meant Lily was _half_ not-one-hundred-percent-Stegoceratops and half purebred human, assuming Owen was fully human, and he was confident that this was true. So Lily must be less than fifty percent Stegoceratops.

Then again, Owen had never been good at math.

And speaking of which, the reason he was not good at math was that he had never attended school, or at least not as often as he was supposed to. This had hindered him greatly, in hindsight, and now, Lily was having a similar problem. The Dearing family had been banished from the one place that might take Lily's education seriously. Well, half banished and half just-decided-not-to-go-back-there-because-of-personal-drama.

Again, Owen wasn't particularly good at math.

In summation, on top of the schooling problem, Owen was basically forced to scratch Claire every morning out of politeness, though he couldn't fathom what kind of a cottony heat could agitate her scales to such a ridiculous degree. It wasn't that he minded doing her a favor, and he did enjoy the moos she gave when he reached a particularly itchy spot, but it was a hassle to wake up so early in the morning. This was one more problem he didn't need.

He tried to solve this heat-based itch-crisis by removing their bedsheets, but this did not change the temperature of the room all that much. He attempted to tamper with the air conditioner, but Claire quickly set it back to normal so that their daughter wouldn't freeze to death in the other room. By this point, Owen had run out of ideas, so he decided to simply give up and suffer through Claire's itches like any good husband would.

One morning, he was sitting in bed with a hunched back, scratching his wife with exhaustion. He had bags under his eyes, and was moving his hands over her shoulder clumsily. This did not go unnoticed.

"Owen? You okay?"

He paused, then went back to scratching.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I just need coffee."

Claire gave a guilty rumble and nudged his shoulder.

"Hey. You can go back to sleep if you want."

He shook his head.

"No, Clairebear, I can't. As long as you're suffering, I can't allow myself to rest."

"It's just an itch, Owen."

"But it makes you twitch."

She gulped.

"If it helps, I can sleep on the floor . . ."

Owen's eyes went wide.

"Don't! You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor like some kind of animal, and besides, I _want_ you beside me. You're perfectly capable of-"

She put her front foot over his mouth to silence him.

"Owen, you're overcompensating. I'm not bothered by this. It was just a suggestion."

He exhaled.

"Alright. Do you have any more ideas?"

"I could cool off in the stream."

"What stream?"

"The one I've been drinking from."

"I thought you drank tap water."

"It's not enough to fill me up."

Owen narrowed his eyes.

"Are you sure this isn't some sort of metaphorical stream that you imagined to deal with the fact that you're a dinosaur?"

Claire pursed her beak.

"Owen, it's a literal stream on our literal property. I can show you, if you want."

Owen gave her a suspicious look.

"I'll call your bluff. Show me."

***DBTR***

When they arrived at the river (which existed, to Owen's surprise), Claire gave a pompous snort and pointed at it with the same this-is-why-I'm-better-than-you expression that often crossed her face when she was around Owen. She lifted her snout defiantly, shifting her shoulders like a horse.

"See? I'm telling the truth. I come here to drink."

Owen rubbed his chin.

"Claire, have you really been drinking this filth?"

Her eyes flicked open, and she gave an indignant scoff.

"Excuse me, but this water is perfectly-"

Owen pointed to the stream, which was running brown with muck. Claire's face fell.

"It wasn't like this yesterday . . ."

Owen frowned thoughtfully.

"There must be something polluting it."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious."

Owen ignored her poorly thought-out insult and marched along the riverbank. Claire batted her eyes with surprise.

"Owen, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to follow the stream until I find out what's making this water all gross and stuff."

Claire snorted, then walked beside him in a gentle canter.

"What's the point? What can you _do_ about it?"

"Depends on what the problem is."

"What if it's too far?"

"We have time. Lily won't wake up for a while."

"But why _bother_?"

Owen smiled.

"Because I don't like mysteries. Plus, if this is your only water source, you need this problem fixed."

"I can drink from the bathtub," she muttered.

"We both know you wouldn't do that."

"Fair enough. Lead the way."

They continued to follow the river until it led them into a canyon that cut through the forest like a fluid laceration. It was kind of funny how they hadn't explored their ranch property all that much, but part of that stemmed from the fear that they might break the magical forcefield that lined their borders. If they did, the one person who could restore it might not be willing to do so. Even if she were to agree, it would be an awkward situation, to say the least. No matter what, they couldn't afford to go back to that other world.

Unfortunately, it was starting to feel like they might be approaching their invisible borders now. The river had widened, but it was impossible to tell if they were nearing the source of the muck. As she scanned the trees that peeked over the canyon walls, however, Claire recognized her surroundings. She tugged at Owen's belt hastily and tried to pull him back.

"Wait. We shouldn't be here."

He froze.

"Why not? Are we being hunted? Is it a bear?"

Claire shook her head.

"No, I just think we should go back."

"Why?"

"Trust me on this."

Owen frowned.

"Claire . . ."

"Please."

"Are we in danger?"

"No."

"Then why-"

"Listen, Owen. Just listen. We have to turn back."

He crossed his arms.

"We've come this far . . ."

"I'm sorry, Owen, but we just can't go any further."

"Why not?"

"I can't explain."

"Unless you do, I'm moving forward."

Claire bit her lower beak.

"Owen . . ."

"What?"

"I have secrets . . ."

"Okay, now I _have_ to know."

"No, you don't."

He placed his hands on his hips.

"Claire, part of marriage is-"

"-putting trust in your partner. I know."

"So, will you let me investigate, or do you really think I can't be trusted?"

"I . . . I don't know . . ."

"You don't know if I can be trusted?"

"No. Yes. Look, I trust you, Owen, but . . . it's complicated."

"Claire, we can't keep secrets from each other. It's just not possible. If you truly have faith in our marriage, you'll tell me what's going on."

She gulped and lay on her belly, placing her front feet over her eyes in shame.

"Fine. Go. Don't judge me . . ."

He gave her a puzzled look, then jogged away to see what she was talking about. When he rounded a curve in the canyon, his jaw dropped. There, blocking out the sun with its sheer mass, was a colossal mountain of Stegoceratops poop. Owen stared at it for a long time, then slowly turned to Claire, who avoided making eye contact. He took a step towards her, then another, then pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

"That yours?"

After a pause, she nodded. Owen lifted his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips.

"I'm impressed. Is this where you've been hiding it all this time?"

Claire whimpered.

"Yes. I . . . _defecate_ from that ledge up there. I've been doing it for years."

Owen looked at the base of the mound.

"Yeah, and from the looks of it, it's started to seep into the river. Seems to be helping the flora, too."

He pointed to a clump of wildflowers growing in a small pile. Claire gave an agonized whine and covered her eyes again.

"Anyway, we can't have you drinking from this stream anymore," Owen continued, "It's not healthy."

Claire nodded with regret.

"I figured. We'll have to find a new water source."

"Like the bathtub?"

"No. I wouldn't drink out of the bathtub, especially since it'll only end up in a way where I get shy about it and you try to trick me by leading me to the water with grapes like E.T. or something and I'll figure out what you're doing and get upset and we'll have a fight and get over it and feel normal again. I'd rather just skip the whole issue and find another river."

Owen blinked.

"Oh . . . Yeah, sure. Sounds good . . . but do you really think something like that might happen?"

She shrugged.

"You come up with a lot of silly ideas. Silly ideas are bad. Our family needs to distance itself from that."

"Sounds good."

"Yeah."

They began to walk back the way they came. It was quiet for a while, but Claire suddenly nudged Owen with her beak.

"You're not going to make a joke?"

"Why would I make a joke?"

"You just discovered a mountain of poop. I figured you'd be cracking jokes all the way home."

"No. I thought about it, and if you trust me, I can't sacrifice that bond for potty humor."

She smiled.

"Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me. My jokes would have been shitty anyway."

Claire grumbled.

"You're lucky the stream is filled with poop, or I'd push you in."

***DBTR***

Owen searched their entire property for a new drinking-place. He felt like a pioneer, or else one of those water witches that used poles to locate underground streams. Well, maybe not quite like _that_ , since he was just using his eyes, but still, it was a lot of fun. It was turning out to be a good day, despite the fact that it had started off with an itching spell. He was especially glad that Claire had decided to actively sidestep the whole "argument" part of their relationship cycle. It was true that they had a tendency to repeat certain spat-patterns, and if that could be avoided, Owen was all for it. It gave him hope that Claire might actually be getting better. Maybe distancing herself from that other world had benefited her, in the long run.

And speaking of things going right, Owen found a pond not too far from their house. It was nestled in the forest, and seemed pretty much perfect for drinking. The area was shady, and the water itself was clear enough to show the rocky bottom of the pool. There was only one thing left to do.

Owen called Claire over to test the pond. The process seemed very official. Claire started by dipping her toes in the water, then proceeded to sniff it delicately. Owen rolled his eyes.

"It's just water, Claire. It won't bite."

"You can never be too careful."

She dipped her muzzle beneath the surface. Owen watched her cheeks puff in and out. She lifted her head, chin dripping, and sat back on her haunches.

"It doesn't taste great, but I guess it's better than shit."

Owen grinned.

"Problem solved, then?"

"I guess."

That was good enough for him.

***DBTR***

Claire made use of her little pond quite regularly. Owen hadn't realized just how much water a Stegoceratops could consume in one day. Apparently, there was a lot he didn't know about Claire's anatomy, and if she continued to hide these things like she did with her "leavings," it would be difficult for Owen to know if she was truly healthy. Although he didn't mention it at the time, he had noticed that some clumps of the dung-pile were off-color or oddly-shaped. The height of these patches varied, which meant that they had been expelled at different times. This indicated that Claire had been sick on many occasions, and had never told Owen. The more he thought about it, the more it upset him. He knew that she was struggling with . . . well, pretty much _everything_ , but until now, he never could have guessed that she was keeping so much from him. Hadn't he earned her trust? Not entirely, it seemed.

"Claire?"

She looked up from where she had been playing with Lily on the carpet.

"What?"

"Is there anything you're not telling me?"

"No."

"Not even little things?"

"I don't think so."

Lily tugged on her mother's horn. Claire bumped her with her beak playfully, and picked up the pony they had been grooming. Owen bit his lip.

"Are you sure you're telling me everything? Because you didn't tell me about the-"

Claire snorted to cut him off.

"Owen, that's different. You don't tell _me_ about every time you . . . you know."

"But I don't go deep into the forest to do it, either."

Claire exhaled and handed the pony to Lily. She nudged her towards the staircase. She received a questioning look in reply, but remained insistent. When Lily had trotted up to her room, Claire turned to Owen.

"What's going on?"

He gulped.

"I guess I'm just a bit concerned that you might still be lying to me."

"About?"

"Things."

Claire sighed.

"Look, I started going to the canyon back when I was insecure, and it kind of stuck."

"You could have broken the habit."

"Well, I don't exactly want to defecate all over the lawn."

"You could have told me, though."

Claire scowled.

"Don't tell me you didn't know what I was doing when I left in the morning . . ."

"I _did_ know, but you never _told_ me."

"If you weren't sure, you should have asked."

"I don't like asking you things."

"Why not?"

The conversation was reaching a critical point. Owen knew it would be unwise to continue, but it might be worse to leave the issue unattended.

"Whenever I ask you something that's even slightly related to . . ."

He gestured to her body.

". . . _this_ , you get emotional."

Claire's brow was deeply creased.

" _Emotional_? I'm not a _teenager_ , Owen. We can be honest with each other."

"Then tell me this: have you ever been sick?"

"Yeah, and _you_ were too. Don't you remember when-"

"No, I mean _other_ times. Times you didn't tell me."

Claire snuffed.

"Sure. But not badly enough to worry about it."

"I'd prefer if you told me."

"It's no big deal."

"It is to me."

Claire growled.

"Stop highroading me. You do that a lot, you know."

"That's ridiculous."

"It's true. Every time I get upset with you, you try to make it out like you're in the right. I mean, there's only so many times you can use love as an excuse."

"What?!"

Claire stamped her foot.

"Don't pretend like you have no idea what I'm talking about! Every time I'm feeling depressed, you put on this show of 'look at how nice I am for staying with you out of love'."

Owen clenched his fists.

"It's not a show, Claire. I really do love you."

"Yeah, and you seem okay with using that as an excuse."

Owen sputtered.

" _Excuse_? Oh my god, Claire. The only reason you think it's an excuse is because you're too insecure to admit that people actually _care_ about you. You're always acting so strong and fierce, but the second you go into a downswing, you're suddenly this weak, pathetic animal who doesn't have the capacity to face the world without my help."

Claire tensed up.

"I am _not_ an animal, and it's not _my_ fault everyone hates dinosaurs!"

"The only person who hates dinosaurs is _you_!"

"That's not true!"

"No one is trying to put you down, Claire. It's all in your head. You need to stop assuming that everyone hates you and control your goddamn emotions!"

Claire was swinging her tail now. That wasn't a good sign.

"You want to talk about emotions, Owen? I can count the times I've seen you cry on one hand, and I don't even have _fingers_! You keep bottling up everything-"

"I told you why."

"Yeah, but it took you long enough, didn't it? You withheld information about your _family_. All _I_ did was shit in private."

Owen began to grind his teeth.

"If I had told you everything about the way I grew up, you wouldn't respect me anymore."

"And if _I_ had told _you_ about the weird things my body does, you'd think I was gross."

"You're assuming things again."

"Yeah, well so are you. We've never talked extensively about your problems-"

"Because I'm trying to fix _yours_!"

Claire reared up on her hind legs, then slammed her front feet into the carpet, shaking the house.

"I don't have problems!"

"Or you've been hiding them. Do you really like yourself, Claire, or is that just another lie you told me to get me to shut up?"

"I _do_ like myself . . . but I know that other people don't."

"Who? _Who_ doesn't like you?"

"Normal people."

"And I'm not normal?"

"No!"

"Why not? Because I'm married to a Stegoceratops?"

"So you _do_ think I'm an animal."

"I was being rhetorical, because that's what _you_ think."

"I don't think that."

"You've said it before."

"That was a long time ago."

"Claire, sometimes I think that you really haven't gotten over the fact that you're a Stegoceratops."

Claire tossed her head.

"Stop it. You're just trying to make me the villain. This isn't something we should be discussing, especially since Lily is upstairs. We don't have the benefit of wiping her memory anymore."

Owen crossed his arms.

"And why would we want to do that? What's so wrong about her knowing what you used to be? Are you ashamed to not be human?"

Claire's eyes went wide.

"Owen, that's not-"

"Are you ashamed of Lily?"

Claire's face fell, and her eyes became glossy. She stood a little taller, lip quivering, and attempted to face Owen. She was clearly trying to sound furious, but her voice was broken and insecure.

"You're a real asshole, you know that? For seven years, I've been trying to cope with the fact that my life has been turned upside-down. No one else has _ever_ gone through what happened to me. I'm the only one who knows what this _feels_ like. I've suffered through trying to be a Stegoceratops, trying to be myself, trying to be something new, but I can never find the answer. People have _died_ because I can't figure out what I am. I've made so many mistakes and I've been so alone . . . How am I supposed to know what's wrong and what's right? Can we even be sure that us having a relationship is moral? My very existence is wrong. I'm not a real animal, and I'm not human, so what _am_ I? I've been living in this confused state ever since we left Jurassic World. And just when I thought that I wouldn't be able to keep going on like this, Lily was born. That's when the Jurassic World chapter of my life ended and our family began. So I _do_ love Lily. And as for why I'm keeping secrets from you, what do you _expect_ me to do? How can I be sure that I'm not one secret away from losing you? What if you finally come to your senses and decide to live a normal life? How am I supposed to _keep_ you?"

Owen shook his head.

"Claire, you don't have to worry about 'keeping' me. All I ever wanted was to be with you, and now I am."

"But you didn't want to be with a Stegoceratops."

Owen sighed.

"Well, not at first, but-"

Suddenly, Claire wheeled around and thundered out the back door. Owen was stunned. He ran after her, but it was clear that he wouldn't be able to catch up. He slunk into the house with defeat and saw Lily peeking at him through the staircase banister. He met her at the bottom of the stairs and picked her up.

"Is Mommy okay?" she squeaked.

Owen exhaled slowly.

"She's upset right now. She'll be better soon."

"Should we go find her?"

Owen shook his head.

"I think she needs some time alone."

***DBTR***

Owen regretted his decision to leave Claire to her own devices. When she didn't return immediately, he feared the worst, but she appeared at the edge of the woods soon enough, and he ran over with a million apologies buzzing around in his head. His primary concern was finishing what he had been trying to say when she left. He wanted to explain that he didn't expect her to be a dinosaur when he first envisioned their life together, but that didn't mean he was against it. If anything, he loved her more now, because she had shown him a whole new side of her personality. He liked that part of her. He liked _every_ part of her. Even the Stegoceratops parts.

He tore across the lawn, sending grass flying behind his heels, and fell to his knees in front of Claire, who was swaying a little. He grabbed both of her cheeks and pressed his forehead against her beak with closed eyes.

"Claire, I didn't mean it. I was trying to say that-"

She pushed him to the side gently.

"It's okay, Owen. I was thinking about it some more, and I overreacted."

Owen's jaw dropped.

"Claire-"

"No, it's okay. I had a drink, cooled off a little, and I'm just too tired to fight anymore. I want to relax."

He let his hand slip down to her neck.

"I just want you to know that I-"

"It's fine, Owen. I believe you. I'm sorry I acted so brashly."

He kissed her.

"It was my mistake. Anyway, if you're feeling better, we can go to bed early. Lily caught some fish in the lake today, and-"

Claire gasped.

"Oh, Owen! You have to put them back! They won't survive in jars, and you know how upset Lily gets when her animals . . . you know . . ."

He nodded.

"Alright. I'll set them free. You go on upstairs while I have Lily say goodbye."

Claire smiled and lumbered away, stumbling slightly. Owen sat in the grass, somewhat puzzled. Rarely did she ever drop an argument like this.

Ah, well. As long as she was happy.

***DBTR***

The next morning, Owen was sitting peacefully on the swing-bench that hung over the porch when he heard a bone-chilling screech. Thinking that Claire was in danger, he dashed across the field and into the forest. He found Claire standing over the drinking-pond with wide eyes. He was afraid that she had been screaming at her own reflection, but he noticed two silver lines on the surface of the pool.

They were Lily's fish, and they were very much dead.

"Owen, I told you to set them free!"

"I did!"

"Then why are they _dead_?!" she choked.

"I don't know!" Owen snapped, "They were alive when I dumped them!"

Claire gave a deep moo.

"Owen . . ."

"I swear! I released them safe and sound."

Claire snorted.

"Fine. But why did you put them in my drinking water?"

"There wasn't enough time to go back to the lake."

Claire grumbled and kicked the dead fish out of the pool. She rinsed her front foot briskly, then gave an agitated growl.

"That makes two tainted water sources."

"We still have the lake . . ."

"I can deal with it!" she barked, "It's not like fish germs matter when you weigh two and a half tons!"

She dunked her face in the pond and started to chug furiously. Owen gulped. He sat down beside her as she drank, moving his palm over her shoulder tenderly.

"Claire . . . two and a half tons is normal for a Stegoceratops. It's actually below average. You don't have to feel self-conscious about your weight."

Her face softened as he spoke, but not because of his words. There was no way he could calm her down this easily. It must be something else . . .

"Even if you were fifty tons, I'd still love you. That stuff doesn't matter to me. I might actually like it better than, uh . . . Look, that's not important. I love you, is what I'm trying to say."

Claire lifted her head and licked her lips. Slowly, she turned to Owen and pressed her face against him lazily.

"It's okay. I'm feeling fine now. We oughta go back to the house and make sure Lily isn't snagging cookies from the panda jar."

Owen quirked the corner of his mouth.

"You sure you're okay?"

She nodded loosely.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Let's go."

She slipped past him, tail swaying back and forth heftily. Owen rubbed his chin. He looked from the pond to Claire, then thought hard. Did her docility have something to do with this water? It seemed unlikely that every problem they had faced over the past seven years was caused by dehydration, but then again, thirst could do terrible things to a person, just like hunger. But she had had the river before, so her good mood probably wasn't caused by fluid consumption. The most logical conclusion was that this water was magic, or at least able to soothe Claire for one reason or another. If this were the case, Owen could certainly benefit from its effects. It might be worth exploiting this discovery . . . responsibly, of course.

As he stood up to retrieve a couple of buckets from the shed, Owen felt something squish under his foot. It was one of Lily's fish. He winced, flicked his boot, then began to jog out of the forest, leaving the dead fish behind without a second thought.

***DBTR***

The next few weeks were damn near perfect. Not only was Claire more docile, but she also seemed relaxed enough to let Owen's minor mistakes slide, which was not usually the case. Normally, when she caught him doing less-than-responsible things, he'd have an hour of scolding to look forward to. Now that she had been drinking the magic water on a regular basis, he was able to get away with much, much more. He had broken a planting pot in the kitchen, accidentally dumped fertilizer in Lily's sandbox, and forgotten to close the gate to the chicken coop. And what happened? Nothing. Not a damn thing. Claire just shrugged it off and went to rest in the field. Owen could get away with virtually anything!

As he sat down on the swing-bench to eat lunch, however, Owen noticed something peculiar. Claire was lying in the meadow, legs folded under her body, and Lily was trying to get her to stand. She ran around, nipping her tail, shoulders, and frill, but Claire simply brushed her away, leaving her disappointed. The young dinosaur stood staring at her mother for a moment before bounding over to Owen, who accepted her invitation to play. As he carried her over to her swing set, he glanced at Claire, who had put her head between her front legs. Maybe she was just tired. She might even be hibernating, considering it was Fall. It was easy to forget, since the weather had been so warm lately.

So there it was. She was simply hibernating . . . for the first time in seven years . . .

Owen kept telling himself that nothing was wrong with Claire. She was swaying a lot, but it was just the heat, he decided. He offered her more water from the pool, and although she was filling herself with more fluid than usual, she still seemed to be dehydrated most of the time. Her scales were dry and flakey, too. But it was just the heat.

One morning, Owen realized just how wrong he was. Claire was grazing in the meadow, slower than usual, and suddenly, she paused. Her head dipped down into the long grass, then bobbed up and down quickly. Owen was puzzled by this action, but he caught a glimpse of a thick stream of vomit pouring out of her muzzle, and quickly rushed over to help her. Claire tried to look up at him, but promptly coughed up more malt, stumbling backwards a little before swaying precariously. Owen tried to keep her standing, but she fell on her side and began breathing laboriously. He knelt beside her, running his hands over her belly in panic. She was gasping for air, or perhaps getting ready to vomit again. Lily, meanwhile, had heard her mother fall, and tumbled towards her like a cannonball. She let out an agonized squeal, nudging her mother's cheek with her front horn. Claire was unresponsive. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was holding her belly in pain. Owen crawled over to her head and spoke between frantic breaths.

"What's wrong? Claire, what's happening?"

It took her a moment to answer.

"I'm . . . sick . . ."

"Sick? For how long? When did this happen?"

She panted, then coughed.

"Haven't been . . . feeling well . . . for over a week."

Owen felt her forehead, then checked her pulse.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She closed her eyes dizzily.

"Thought it was . . . nothing . . . Didn't want you to worry."

He gulped and examined her pupils.

"What are your symptoms?"

"Dizzy . . . Stomach hurts . . . Dark urine . . ."

"Dark urine?! Jesus, Claire, why didn't you tell me?!"

"I don't like . . . when things are wrong with me . . ."

She scrunched up her face, taking short breaths, then let out a pained moo. Lily started crying. Claire reached for her, but couldn't find where she was located. Owen held her front foot worriedly.

"Claire? . . ."

"Whatever it is . . . it's bad. Getting worse. Not feeling . . ."

She didn't have the strength to finish her sentence. Owen stood up, heart pounding, and turned towards the truck, which was parked in front of the house.

"I'm going to get help."

Claire's eyes went wide.

"No."

"I have to."

"Too dangerous."

"You're already in danger."

"The barrier . . . will break."

Owen shook his head.

"I'll set up the machine so it will allow me to go into town. The spheres will overlap. It won't break the enchantment."

Claire tried to stand, but she was too weak. She reached for Owen desperately.

"Don't. They can't know. We won't be safe."

"Claire, this is serious."

"No."

"You're literally writhing in pain."

"Don't do it."

"I'm going now."

"OWEN!"

Although she was screaming as loudly as she could manage, it was barely a rasp.

"OWEN, LISTEN!"

"What?"

"STOP!"

"You need help, Claire."

"Lily . . ."

"I'll take her in the car."

"No. Not safe."

Owen began to jog away.

"She'll stay with you, then."

"Owen! . . ."

He didn't turn around. Claire tried to crawl after him, but found that she couldn't. She attempted to call out with a long moo, but to no avail. The truck's engine growled, and Claire joined Lily in weeping helplessly. They sat nestled in the grass as Owen drove away, barely noticing that their shadows were creeping across the grass. By the time Owen returned, the light would be gone entirely.

***DBTR***

As soon as Owen parked the truck, he bounded out of the front seat and slammed the door shut. He did not intend to waste a single second when Claire's life was on the line.

No sooner had he taken three steps than he saw a familiar face. Tammy-Lynn, a woman who had been his friend for the first few years of his Tennessee habitation, was puffing on a cigarette by the barber shop. He intended to move past her, but she stepped in front of him with a bitter scowl and tossed her smoke to the side.

"Haven't seen you around much, lately. Wife keeping you busy?"

Owen swerved around her.

"Can't waste time. Need doctor."

Tammy-Lynn snorted.

"You crazy, Owen? The nearest hospital is three hours away. Ain't no doctor in this shit-hole."

Owen stopped walking. He turned around slowly, heart sinking through the soles of his feet.

"No . . . That's impossible. How does this town not have a doctor?"

"In case you haven't noticed, this ain't exactly a metropolis."

Owen ran his fingers through his hair.

"Oh god, oh god . . . What do I do?"

Tammy-Lynn shrugged.

"Don't know. Closest thing to a doctor is my pop, and he's just a vet."

Owen's breathing slowed. He considered it, then grabbed Tammy-Lynn by the shoulder.

"That'll work. Get in the truck."

***DBTR***

When Owen, Tammy-Lynn, and Tammy-Lynn's father arrived at the ranch, speeding down the dirt road in two vehicles, Claire was no longer lying in the field. Either she had dragged herself indoors because it was too cold to stay outside, or she had hidden herself away like a dying animal. Owen certainly hoped his second theory was wrong. He sprinted up to the front door, urging his guests to follow, and stepped inside the house.

"You have to promise that you won't tell a single soul what you saw here today. Normally, I wouldn't trust outsiders, but I'm desperate. Please, don't ever let this secret get out, or it will be the end of my family."

"What secret?" Tammy-Lynn asked.

Owen gulped and led her into the family room, where he could hear heavy breathing. Claire was lying on her side, and there was foam in the corner of her mouth. Her tongue was splayed loosely on the carpet. When Tammy-Lynn caught sight of her, she shrieked and flailed her hands in panic.

"What the hell _is_ that thing?"

"This is Claire," Owen said simply.

Tammy-Lynn backed away from the dinosaur slowly.

"You said Claire was your wife . . ."

"She is."

Tammy-Lynn looked from Owen to Claire, then to Owen again. She pointed at the wheezing Stegoceratops with a creased brow.

"You're married to THAT?"

"Yes."

She shook her head in disbelief.

"You're crazy . . ."

Owen sighed and knelt beside Claire.

"I know it sounds strange, but she's a person, just like you and me. I'm not allowed to talk about her because it would be unsafe. Our daughter-"

His eyes went wide.

"Lily! Where's Lily?!"

Claire lifted her head slightly.

"In room . . ."

Owen dashed up the staircase, leaving Tammy-Lynn alone with Claire. She inched towards her, unsure of whether it was safe to trust a talking dinosaur.

"You're Claire . . ."

"Tammy-Lynn."

Her eyes went wide.

"How do you know my name?"

"I saw you once. You didn't know I was there . . . I saw you kiss Owen . . ."

Tammy-Lynn gulped.

"Well, in all fairness, he didn't seem to like it."

She sighed.

"Oh my god. I'm talking to a dinosaur . . . You _are_ a dinosaur, right?"

"I don't know."

They both turned to look down the hall as Tammy-Lynn's father pushed through the front door, medical kit in hand.

"Tam-Tam, I left some supplies in the car. What kind of a- HOLY HELL! THAT'S NO HORSE!"

Claire tried to focus on him. Her eyes were glazed.

"Who . . . are you? . . ."

He blinked several times.

"I'm . . . Dr. Mueller. You can call me Clyde."

He chuckled.

"I'm not used to patients that talk back."

"Why? . . ."

"I'm a doctor of veterinary medicine."

"Owen brought back . . . a vet . . . Fantastic."

Dr. Mueller sat down next to Claire and pulled out a stethoscope. He placed it on her chest, then frowned in puzzlement.

"How fast does your heart normally beat?"

"Slow . . ."

"Hm. Well, I'll need a bit more information. Are you warm-blooded or cold-blooded?"

"Warm."

"Do you eat a balanced diet?"

"I don't know."

Tammy-Lynn scoffed.

"Sure looks like it."

Claire shot her a look.

"Do you have any pre-existing medical conditions?" Dr. Mueller continued.

"Not sure."

He put his stethoscope away.

"Alright. I'll run a few tests."

Owen came pattering down the stairs, holding Lily in his arms.

"She was hiding under her bed. She thought I wasn't coming back."

Lily peeked over his shoulder with red eyes, then reached for her mother. Owen put her down, and she sprinted across the room. She nuzzled Claire dolefully, sobbing anew. Dr. Mueller stared at her for a moment, then decided that her existence wasn't worth questioning. He went back to working.

Tammy-Lynn, meanwhile, was visibly distraught by the whole situation. She didn't know what to make of this strange, sick dinosaur, much less the fact that she was apparently sentient. It was taking all of her brainpower to come to terms with this development. She now had to reimagine everything she knew about Claire. Although Owen didn't know it, Tammy-Lynn had thought about his wife a great deal, specifically in the context of why he'd choose to stay with her in their cabin, all alone. She had assumed that the woman was simply an introvert who possessed unknown attractive qualities that stole Owen's heart. Now, she took in this disgusting animal lying on the carpet in front of her and felt even worse about Owen's rejection. He had chosen a big, green dinosaur over her. It made her ill.

Knowing that Claire was not some gorgeous vixen, it was reasonable to assume one of two things. Either Owen was crazy, or there was something wrong with Tammy-Lynn herself. Unfortunately, she had never really been in a relationship that stuck, and following the many times she'd had her heart broken, she was inclined to believe that maybe there _was_ something fundamentally wrong with her, and whatever it was must be _more_ wrong than being a dinosaur. The thought almost brought her to tears.

Claire, meanwhile, had very little capacity to think. Her brain was fogged over with pain and dizziness, leaving barely any room for contemplation. A thought did cross her mind, however, albeit briefly. She _hated_ Tammy-Lynn, and was sure that she was still after Owen, being the slutty airhead she was. She was just some lowlife trailer trash blonde who didn't give a shit about anyone but herself. Obviously, she was too stupid to be anything else, unlike Owen, who had escaped his unfortunate circumstance. Tammy-Lynn was to blame for her own problems, really. It was obvious . . . to Claire, at least.

And so, the two women passed judgment without a second thought. Both were wrong in their speculations, however. Tammy-Lynn, while not the sharpest knife in the drawer, was more sophisticated than Claire gave her credit for. Claire, while not human in appearance, was no less human than she had been seven years ago. Each woman saw the other as being less than what they were. This was not unusual. It is rare that a person will consider another's feelings without being asked, since it is all too easy to forget that those who pass us on the street are not simply bodies, but people just like us, with thoughts and feelings and struggles that echo our own. So it was with Tammy-Lynn and Claire, who loved the same man for different reasons, and hated each other for the same ones.

Of course, their rivalry wasn't the primary issue, at present. Dr. Mueller had come to a conclusion, it seemed, and it was not a good one, judging by his expression.

"I can't be one hundred percent sure, but I believe she has arsenic poisoning."

Owen's eyes went wide.

"How? When has she ever eaten _arsenic_?"

Dr. Mueller shrugged.

"Hard to say. There are traces of arsenic in the air, food, water . . ."

Owen's heart skipped a beat. He knew _exactly_ how Claire had been poisoned. Suddenly, he felt like an idiot for believing his own lie. The water from the pond was not making Claire friendlier, it was _polluting_ her. She was physically and mentally impaired by the substance, and what's more, she refused to address it out of shame. And he had _known_ that something was wrong. He just didn't want to believe it, because he preferred silence to conflict. Avoiding their cycle of discord hadn't helped their marriage: it had made things so much worse. He only hoped it wasn't too late to mend their situation.

"How do we treat her?" Owen asked.

Dr. Mueller took a deep breath.

"I can give her something for the pain, but this isn't the kind of illness that has a distinct antidote. Not one I have access to, anyway. We'll have to let her body fight the poison on its own."

Owen looked down at Claire, who definitely did _not_ appear to be in a fighting condition.

"Can't we do something for her?" he whispered.

"We can help her along. She still needs food and water, obviously, but we can't magically reverse her situation. If she doesn't improve within a few hours, we may have to consider other options."

"Such as?"

"Euthanasia."

Owen stumbled backwards.

"You- You're not saying she could . . ."

He became aware of Lily, who had been listening to their conversation. She was draped over her mother's neck, and her eyes were fixed on Owen. He took a deep breath and turned back to Dr. Mueller.

"How long will it be before we know if she's okay?"

"It's hard to say. I'd send your daughter to bed for now. If things get worse, we'll wake her."

Owen nodded. He picked up Lily, who squirmed with her arms extended towards Claire.

"I want to stay with Mommy!"

Owen stroked her frill.

"Mommy's sick. She needs her rest. Try to sleep for now, okay?"

"Is she dying?" Lily choked.

Owen shook his head quickly.

"No, she's not dying. She'll be fine, I promise. You'll see her in the morning."

Lily peeked over his shoulder, uncertain, but nodded.

"Okay. Tell Ma I'll be thinking about her in my dreams."

"That's very nice of you, sweetheart. I'll tuck you in, okay?"

As Owen climbed the staircase, Lily did not take her eyes off her mother. Claire's own eyes were barely open, but her foot moved ever so slightly across the carpet. It was unclear whether she was reaching for her daughter, but Owen soon disappeared from view, leaving only Tammy-Lynn and her father to watch over the sick Stegoceratops. There was a pause, then Dr. Mueller turned to his daughter and forced a smile.

"This is definitely going in my top five most interesting cases, huh?"

Tammy-Lynn did not reply. She looked away pensively, and neither of them spoke until Owen returned. He tiptoed down the staircase, then whispered so that Lily would have no chance of hearing him.

"How bad is it? Is Claire going to be okay?"

Dr. Mueller cocked his head.

"Same as I told you before: only time will tell. There's honestly nothing I can do, but I'll stay here all the same. What matters now is that we make our patient as comfortable as possible."

Owen nodded rapidly.

"You said she needs to be fed. Will food help?"

"You can try."

Owen dashed into the kitchen. While he was gone, Dr. Mueller took a moment to examine Claire from different angles, not for medical purposes, but out of interest. It was unusual to see a dinosaur in someone's family room, after all, and although Dr. Mueller did not know enough about her to identify her as a hybrid, her biology was of great interest to him. He was running his hand over her plates when Owen returned with a bowl of vegetable soup.

"It's tomato. Is that okay?"

"Should be fine. Tammy-Lynn told me you used to work at Jurassic World," Dr. Mueller recounted, "Is that where you got her?"

"In a manner of speaking . . ."

Owen knelt down beside her and rubbed her snout.

"Claire was the park's manager. She wasn't always a Stegoceratops. She used to be able to change, but when this became her permanent shape, we agreed that she would only be safe if we kept her a secret."

Tammy-Lynn perked up a little.

"Wait. Are you saying that this dinosaur used to be Claire Dearing?"

Owen nodded.

"That's her name. Do you know her?"

"No, but she was all over the news. They thought she'd been kidnapped or murdered. She just disappeared off the face of the Earth. I guess this is where she ended up."

Owen sighed.

"Part of me wanted to go back to the life we had before, but I knew it wasn't possible. Claire is still the same person in my eyes, but the world doesn't care about that kind of thing. All they see is a dinosaur. They don't take the time to think about what's inside . . ."

Claire groaned quietly.

"Whatever's inside of me isn't doing too hot, either," she said slowly.

Owen put his hands on her cheeks.

"How are you feeling? Better or worse?"

"The same. Maybe . . . a little worse."

Owen gulped and pushed the soup towards her.

"Can you eat?"

Claire inhaled, then closed her eyes.

"I don't think so."

"Try. You have to try."

He scooted forward and pulled her head onto his lap. When her chin was in a proper position, he lifted a spoonful of soup to her mouth. She opened her beak, but only a little. Owen helped her by holding her skull in the crook of his elbow. He slid the spoon into her muzzle and let her drink. The attempt was rather unsuccessful, as she was barely able to swallow. Her tongue moved a little, but that was it. He tried again, and this time, the soup dripped out of her beak and onto the carpet. On the third try, she lost the strength to open her mouth at all.

Owen was losing hope, but even so, he managed to keep his cool. He pushed the soup to the side and grabbed a pillow, which he rested under Claire's head. He kissed her frill, then rubbed her snout gently.

"That's okay. We'll wait until you're feeling better. Get some rest, okay?"

He could tell that she was trying to nod. He stood up, lip quivering almost imperceptibly, and turned to the doctor for guidance. He smiled and pulled up a chair.

"You oughta get some rest too, Owen. There's not much we can do, but we ought to keep our wits about us. I'll take first watch. If anything changes, I'll wake you in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

Owen stared at his failing wife and swallowed. He bent over a little and let his fingers graze her shoulder. With a shaky breath, he turned to the staircase.

"If something happens, get me right away."

"Of course."

Owen made his way upstairs, managing to hold back his tears until he was out of sight.

***DBTR***

Tammy-Lynn and her father took turns watching over Claire. While one of them knelt by her side, the other slept on the couch. Tammy-Lynn was reluctant to take her shift when her father woke her up at one in the morning, however. She was half considering simply walking away. If Claire were to die, she could say that it had been sudden and unexpected. To a certain degree, Tammy-Lynn was actually _hoping_ _for_ Claire's death. It didn't take a genius to deduce that once she was out of the picture, Owen would be romantically available. Then again, he had a kid, which complicated the matter significantly.

Begrudgingly, Tammy-Lynn took up her post. Her father put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a serious look.

"She hasn't improved. Keep an eye on her. If anything goes wrong, no matter how insignificant it may seem, wake me up. I don't think she's going to recover from this."

Tammy-Lynn nodded, then lumbered over to Claire. She brought a magazine with her, plopping herself down on a flimsy folding chair with crossed legs. Claire was apparently sleeping, which meant that it was unlikely anything interesting would happen. Tammy-Lynn covered her field of vision with the magazine, blocking out the wheezing dinosaur. A few minutes passed, then out of nowhere, she barely heard the sound of a weak voice.

"Tammy-Lynn."

She lowered her magazine. Claire was lying in the same position, but her visible eye was open. Tammy-Lynn paused, then decided to acknowledge her.

"You talking to me?"

"Come . . . closer."

Timidly, Tammy-Lynn slid out of her chair and sat on the floor, far away from Claire's horns in case she was planning something. The dinosaur did not attempt to impale her, however, and instead took a long, painful breath.

"I'm not going to make it . . . through the night."

Tammy-Lynn bit her lip.

"Should I . . . get Owen?"

"Not yet. We need to talk."

Tammy-Lynn shuffled backwards.

"Look, I wasn't trying to-"

"He . . . needs you."

Tammy-Lynn froze.

"What?"

"Once I'm . . . gone . . . he'll have . . . no one. He needs you."

"He has your daughter."

"She needs you, too."

Claire coughed a little.

"Owen will say . . . he doesn't need people. He's wrong. I know what he's like. He can't survive . . . alone. You need to be there . . . for him."

Tammy-Lynn shook her head.

"He doesn't need me."

"Do you . . . love him?"

Tammy-Lynn batted her eyes.

"I- Well, I wouldn't say-"

"If you love him . . . that's enough. He has a . . . big heart. He needs to know . . . that he's loved. You need to . . . support him when he fails . . . comfort him when he's sad . . . and understand when he cries. He needs to cry. Never tell him he shouldn't . . ."

She paused to catch her breath. Even speaking, it seemed, was taking a toll on her health.

"Lily . . . needs a mother. You can learn . . . to love her. She'll love you . . . too . . ."

Claire went limp. She was still breathing, but it was obviously a struggle. Tammy-Lynn put her hand on her shoulder, feeling her scales for the first time.

"Should I get Owen?"

Claire nodded. Tammy-Lynn stood, woke her father, then pounded up the staircase to find Owen. To her surprise, he was already awake, and immediately got out of bed to follow her downstairs. Dr. Mueller was determining the gravity of Claire's state. He stood up and met Owen's gaze with regret.

"I recommend taking a moment to talk to your daughter. Claire doesn't have much time left."

Owen was in shock, but he knew the doctor was right. He backed away from Claire, then jogged upstairs to wake Lily. A significant amount of time passed. Tammy-Lynn wondered what he could possibly say to explain the situation to his daughter. Would he admit that Claire was dying? Apparently, yes, because the silence was interrupted by a terrified wail, and Lily came sprinting down the staircase. Owen followed, urging her to slow down, but she refused. She thundered over to her mother and wrapped her arms around her neck, screaming with sorrow. Claire acknowledged her presence by opening her eyes, then moved her front foot closer to her body in what should have been an embrace. Lily tried to tug on her mother's horn, but she wouldn't budge. She turned to look at her father, who had made it to the bottom of the staircase. The sorrow in her eyes was all too familiar. It was the same look she gave him when Winnie the Pooh was about to end. She was pleading for him to intervene, to undo what had been done. Unlike her videotape, this was something he could not rewind. There was no way to bend time, nor to undo his mistake. He wondered if she knew that he was responsible for poisoning Claire. Lily appeared to be angry, but perhaps it was because she was frustrated with his inability to heal her mother. Tonight would be the night she learned just how little power adults actually had over the world around them. She would come to understand that Owen was just as afraid as she was.

"You can't let her die!" Lily wailed, "We're supposed to be a family! We can't do this without Mom!"

Owen sat down beside her with shaky knees.

"Lily, this is beyond our control. There's nothing I can do-"

"THERE'S ALWAYS SOMETHING! WHY CAN'T THE DOCTOR FIX HER?"

Dr. Mueller rubbed his neck.

"I'm sorry, Lily. I'm only a veterinarian. I've done everything I can, but-"

Suddenly, Lily charged towards him and rammed her head into his shin. She screamed in anger and started pounding on his legs with her fists.

"WHY CAN'T YOU SAVE HER?! WHY CAN'T YOU SAVE MY MOM?!"

Dr. Mueller stumbled back, but Lily kept attacking him. Owen tried to scoop her up, but she squirmed out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry! She's not usually like this!"

Lily screeched and bit his arm. He dropped her out of shock. When she barreled towards Dr. Mueller again, Tammy-Lynn sprung into action. She caught Lily, then surprisingly, gave her a hug. She thrashed around a bit before giving up and sobbing into her shoulder. Tammy-Lynn leaned against the wall, holding the back of Lily's head.

"I know it hurts, sweetheart, but this is no one's fault. We tried our best. These things happen. It may seem like someone oughta be blamed for this, but really, that's not true. It won't make you feel any better. You can still do some good, though. Right now, your mother isn't feeling too well, and I think she'd really appreciate it if she could spend some time with you. Do you think you can do that for her, honey?"

Lily nodded slowly, still sniffing. Tammy-Lynn stood up and carried her over to Claire. When she set her on the ground, Lily ran over, licked her mother's cheek, and nestled herself under her arm. Claire gave her a gentle squeeze, and the corner of her mouth turned upwards a little. Owen knelt beside her, rubbing her snout slowly.

It was clear that there was nothing else to be done. Dr. Mueller began to pack his bags, and Tammy-Lynn watched the scene with tears pricking at her eyes. She did not want Claire to die. It came as a surprise to her, but it was true. The threat of Claire's impending doom was tearing this family apart, and she couldn't bear to witness the end.

When her father had gathered his supplies, Tammy-Lynn bolted out the door, rubbing her eye as it became smudged with mascara. She made it halfway across the lawn before she noticed that her father wasn't following her. She turned and saw Owen offering him a fistful of cash. He held up his hand, then patted Owen's shoulder. They shared a few more words before breaking apart.

Tammy-Lynn got into her father's truck and adjusted the rearview mirror. Her makeup was a mess. She rubbed it away from her cheeks and hiccupped. By the time her father reached the car, she was sobbing.

"You okay, Tam-Tam?"

"I'll be fine," she sniffed.

He nodded and pulled her in for a hug.

"Owen offered me a lot of money. I told him I didn't expect to be paid."

"You let him know that he doesn't have to worry about us blabbing, right?"

"I didn't, but he knows. No one would believe us, anyway."

They sat in silence for a while. Tammy-Lynn wiped her nose and looked out the window.

"You know, Pa, I don't think we should leave him."

"Me neither. I don't believe we should go back inside, though, because they're calling Claire's sister."

"That's okay. We can just wait in the car."

"Sounds good to me."

There was a long silence. Tammy-Lynn's father took a deep breath.

"I hate to bring this up, but she looked awfully heavy . . ."

"I'm not jealous of her looks, Pa."

"That's not what I meant. If she dies tonight, we'll have to move her body out of the house. Are you okay with that?"

"I have to be."

"You don't have to, Tammy. This isn't your responsibility."

"It is. If Claire dies . . . I mean . . . You saw her daughter. Their family needs help. I want to be there. They ain't got a friend in the world without us. I don't want Owen and Lily to be alone."

He smiled.

"Well, they're lucky to have someone like you looking out for them."

Tammy-Lynn didn't know if that was true, but it made her feel a whole lot better. She pressed her forehead against the window, staring out at the lawn (which looked suspiciously _grazed_ ), and silently prayed that somehow, Claire would survive the night. As the hours ticked by, her hope dwindled, but she continued to pray for Claire's recovery. She was starting to believe that it was pointless, that no one would answer her silent pleas, but as the sky turned purple with the first light of dawn, she could have sworn that she saw an angel flying across the heavens.

There was no way to know for sure, because she fell asleep at that very moment.

***DBTR***

When the sun rose, neither Tammy-Lynn nor Owen knew where they were. They heard the muffled sound of birds tweeting, but their surroundings were far from ordinary. Tammy-Lynn was sitting in the truck, aching all over from the uncomfortable sleeping position she had chosen, and Owen was lying on the living room carpet. Claire's arm was draped over him, as usual. When he realized this, he remembered everything that had happened the night prior. He bolted upright and touched Claire's shoulder, tears pouring down his face. After a moment, however, his heart trembled. Claire was breathing, and she responded to his touch. With a tired moo, she lifted her head, eyelids drooping unevenly. She squinted, then made out his shape in her blurred vision. As she sat up, she jostled Lily, who awoke with a whimper. Once she realized that her mother was still alive, she joined her father in giving her a hug.

It was then that Tammy-Lynn burst through the door. She saw that Claire was alive and well, and breathed a sigh of relief. Dr. Mueller caught up to her, and was shocked to see that his patient had recovered. Without missing a beat, Lily sprung forward and hugged his leg. She was crying, but not out of sorrow.

"Thank you for saving my Mommy."

He smiled, then shook his head.

"I didn't do much. She got better all on her own."

Claire stood up on shaky legs.

"I don't believe it. It must be some sort of miracle."

"You feel alright?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Yeah," she marveled, "A little unsteady, but otherwise fine. I think I'm better."

Owen hugged her neck.

"I'm glad. Is there anything I can get for you?"

Claire shrugged.

"Maybe some water? . . ."

"NO!"

Everyone froze, staring at Owen with eyes as wide as dinner plates. He gulped, then put his hands behind his back sheepishly.

"There's something I need to tell you . . ."

***DBTR***

As noon crept along, the whole gang gathered by the toxic pool, shoveling dirt into the water in the hope of preventing another disaster. Tammy-Lynn grunted as her spade hit a rock.

"Hard to believe all this trouble was caused by a little water."

"More like a little arsenic," her father muttered.

"You really don't have to do this, you know," Owen said quietly, "We owe you so much. It's not fair . . ."

"Hey, you don't owe us a thing," Dr. Mueller insisted, "Ever since I flunked out of medical school, I've always dreamed of upstaging those fancy doctors by treating a real patient, and now I have."

Claire sighed.

"With all due respect, I'm not much more than an animal."

Tammy-Lynn shook her head.

"That just ain't true, Claire. You're a genuine person, and anyone who says otherwise ain't worth your time."

Claire beamed.

"That means a lot to me, Tammy-Lynn. I know you said you don't want any money, but I think you should join us for dinner sometime."

"I'd love to! It's been so lonely in town, it'll be nice to have a . . ."

". . . a friend?" Claire finished.

Tammy-Lynn smiled.

"Sure, if that's okay with you."

"It's perfect."

They turned as Lily skipped into the clearing. She was holding a piece of paper in her mouth. She stood on her hind legs and offered it to Tammy-Lynn and her father.

"I drew this for you."

As she held up the drawing, Claire gasped. She attempted to grab it away before anyone else could see.

"Lily, darling, I don't think-"

It was too late. Tammy-Lynn held up the drawing, which featured all five of them. Her portrait in particular was rather . . . busty. Lily had drawn what looked like deflated balloons on Tammy-Lynn's figure. She stared at it for a moment, then giggled.

"That's me, alright!"

Claire laughed awkwardly, and Tammy-Lynn passed the drawing to her father. He smiled, and his eyes became wet.

"Did I spell your name wrong?" Lily asked with worry.

"No . . . Well, yes, but I'm not upset. I'm flattered that you called me a hero."

"You are. You saved my mom."

He bent over and patted her head.

"Vets only do half the job. The rest is up to the patient."

Claire, meanwhile, had begun to scratch, interrupting the tender moment with her frustrated grunts. She dug her tail-spikes into her side, chuffing with discomfort. Tammy-Lynn gave her a questioning look.

"It's the heat," Claire explained, "It makes me itch."

Dr. Mueller rubbed his chin.

"Are you _sure_ it's the heat?"

"What else _could_ it be?"

"Well, this is around the time of year when gnats are active . . ."

Claire stopped scratching.

"Gnats?"

"Yes, they usually prey on horses, but it's possible they've taken a shine to you. I wouldn't recommend the usual gnat spray, since you'll be in and out of the house, but if you had a scratching post of some kind-"

"Like a cat?" Claire winced.

"No, more like a camel. They're simple to build, if your husband is up to the task."

Owen nodded.

"I'd be fine with that. Claire?"

She sighed.

"I guess so. I'd prefer it to itching all the time, anyway . . ."

Owen put his hand on her shoulder and eyed Lily, who had run away to play in the field.

"Are you sure you're okay? I don't want you to think we're treating you like livestock."

"It's fine. I can swallow my pride," she said quietly.

"You ain't got nothing to be ashamed of, Claire," Tammy-Lynn insisted, "I used to eat doggy chow when I was a kid."

Claire narrowed her eyes.

"I fail to see your point."

"Well, there ain't much that separates us from the animals. Actually, people _are_ animals. We just say we're different 'cuz we're smarter. That don't mean we're above nature. We can still get rabies and stuff, so it's not like we're all that different, as far as biology's concerned. We ain't gonna fault you for having a scratching post. We know you're not an animal."

Claire smiled warmly.

"That's sweet of you to say."

"Naw. I'm not much smarter than an animal, myself."

"You are," Claire insisted, "You're smarter than you think, Tammy-Lynn."

She grunted and dropped her spade.

"Apparently, none of us can be _that_ smart, cuz this pond ain't getting filled, and 'sides, it's gonna kill the grass once it overflows. I ain't an expert or nothing, but the poison must be coming from the ground, so covering it up won't fix the issue."

Claire nodded sadly.

"I think I've finally realized that concealing problems only makes them worse. Is there a way to make sure this pond doesn't cause any more harm?"

Dr. Mueller leaned on his shovel, wiping his brow with a handkerchief.

"Theoretically, you could lower the toxicity of the water by adding a basic substance to reduce the effects of the arsenic, but you'd have to add a lot, and you'd have to do it every day."

Claire placed her front foot under her chin pensively. After a pause, she hummed.

"That shouldn't be a problem. I think I know a way."

When Owen realized what she was talking about, he raised his eyebrows.

"Are you sure you're okay with that? We're awfully close to the house. I don't want to intrude on your privacy."

Claire smiled.

"It'll be fine. It was a chore to walk all the way to the canyon every morning. Besides, it wasn't normal to hide what I was doing. I have no reason to be shy."

Tammy-Lynn batted her eyes.

"Am I missing something, here?"

Claire grinned and poked Owen with her tail.

"It's between us. This week, we've been through a lot of shit."

***DBTR***

Eventually, Tammy-Lynn and her father left the ranch, hoping for a well-earned rest after all the commotion. They were just as exhausted as the family they were leaving behind. Even so, Claire knew that it wouldn't be long before they returned. They still owed them a dinner, after all, and Tammy-Lynn seemed surprisingly eager to start a friendship with Claire. That was fine by her, considering her only other close friends were literally a world away. It was downright miraculous that a normal person was able to get past the fact that she was a Stegoceratops, she thought.

Or was it?

Owen, after all, loved Claire, and he was average in most respects. Well, he wasn't too keen on socializing, which might make his devotion to her all the more significant. But what if she was misinterpreting his actions? Was it possible that he had turned away from other humans to pursue a relationship with an animal? No. That was not the case. She was no animal.

Although Claire's new reflection took some getting used to, when she looked at her visage now, she saw herself. There was no ghost of a human clouding her vision, no numb longing for a different face in the mirror . . . Claire was a Stegoceratops, and that was perfectly fine. Why should she want anything more? She had friends, a family, a home . . . That was all she ever needed, though she once wanted something different.

At the end of the day, being human would not change the way she lived. The most important people in her life were Owen and Lily, and they loved her no matter what she was. Perhaps there were still people in the world who would see her as nothing more than a simple Stegoceratops, but if they took the time to get to know her, they might grow to understand her, and maybe even _like_ her. Tammy-Lynn was proof of that.

And as for all the obstacles Claire had not yet overcome, there was no hurry to face them just yet. She'd get to them, eventually, but for now, she was glad to bask in the wonderful feeling of being _alive_. In time, Owen would become more open about his past, and Lily would learn about the world in her own unique way, but that was a process that would take years and years. Not that it was a bad thing. After all, this was only the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.

This was the beginning of their family.


End file.
